


Crabbed

by kakkoweeb



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Compliant, Confusion, Gen, M/M, Vacation, listen idk what to tell you, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakkoweeb/pseuds/kakkoweeb
Summary: The break before his second year of high school, Tobio’d planned to fill with the simple things: sleep, food, exercise, volleyball, and indulging Hinata’s demands to hang out once or twice. Had he known it was going to be full of Oikawa, maybe he’d have waited a little less eagerly for it to start.But now, he didn’t think he wanted it to end.





	Crabbed

**Author's Note:**

> so the [holiday oikage zine](https://oikagezine.tumblr.com/)'s up and i'm in it. i missed the chance to advertise preorders but i think they've still got stuff up for sale, so it isn't too late to check out the store page!! 
> 
> this isn't my piece, though. i won't be putting my piece up on ao3 and am just leaving the reading to those who actually bought the thing. so what is this? well, it was my ALMOST piece. it was the first idea i got and decided to go with, until i realized i could not and did not want to squeeze it under a word cap so i decided to make it a project outside of the zine. i [previewed](http://kakkoweeb.tumblr.com/post/169975787732/32-with-you-know-what-3) it on tumblr.

The break before his second year of high school, Tobio’d planned to fill with the simple things: sleep, food, exercise, volleyball, and indulging Hinata’s demands to hang out once or twice. Had he known it was going to be full of Oikawa, maybe he’d have waited a little less eagerly for it to start.

When Tobio had first seen him one spring afternoon, one out of the two days in which he’d allow Hinata to drag him out of the house and to a large theme park with the rest of their team, he was standing alone, arms crossed and eyes narrowed and scanning the thick crowd for who knew what. And by the time Tobio had thought to tear his gaze away, he was already being spotted, the furrow of Oikawa’s brows disappearing to make way for surprise, impatient tapping of his foot coming to a stop for it to step forward instead.

Part of Tobio thought to run, the endless configurations of words a defeated older rival could possibly slather onto him swimming in his head and sending a hammering to his chest, but when Oikawa stopped in front of him, arms still crossed and face looking cross, all he really said (after a few misleading inhales) was, “I didn’t know you do things other than volleyball.”

Tobio could say the same to him, really, but he was more concerned about the fact that his companions had disappeared on him, and that Oikawa’s seemed to have too. “Hinata and the others invited me out, but I...kind of lost them.”

Oikawa snorted. “Wow.”

“Shut—how was I supposed to know there was going to be so many people?”

“All right, all right, I didn’t say anything,” Oikawa said, smiling at something a little off to the side and holding his hands up in some kind of insulting surrender, until he was putting them on his hips and smiling at Tobio instead—a kind that kind of made him want to turn away and binge-eat dairy. “But really, you shouldn’t let yourself get dragged into things you’re not prepared for.”

“Why are _you_ all alone, then?”

All traces of smug were wiped clean off of Oikawa’s face, replaced by bitterness and perhaps a hint of embarrassment as he once again picked the crowd apart with only his eyes. “Because my friends are jerks,” he said, gritting his teeth, “who, I’m pretty sure, deliberately abandoned me to get on my nerves. I bet they’re scheming right now. I bet they _intended_ for this to happen. In fact—they didn’t pay you to come up to me, did they?”

“No? In the first place, you came up to me.”

“Did I? I don’t recall.”

His nonchalant, distant gaze and yet constant, brief glancing was enough to have Tobio averting his own eyes, somehow heavily preferring reuniting with the teammates that had so cruelly forgotten him over standing here, awkward and helpless next to the last person who wanted to see him (and not a lot of people wanted to see him in the first place). He shoved his hands in his pockets, locked his sights on the Ferris wheel a good distance away. “Uh, well, it was—kind of nice seeing you, Oikawa-san.”

“You’re riding that?”

Tobio’s single step away was stopped short. “Huh?”

Oikawa had his own eyes at the very top of the moving wheel, eyes narrowed and studious. “Actually, you know what, it’s going to be pretty easy to find them from up there, right? It’s the highest point in the entire park and it goes slowly enough for us to get a good look at the crowd.” And without warning, he grabbed Tobio’s sleeve. “Come on.”

“ _Huh?”_

“Let’s get on the wheel,” Oikawa pressed, as if Tobio’s resistance was the most outlandish thing in this world.

“Why do I have to come with you?”

“What, you’re telling me you don’t want to find your friends anymore?”

“I didn’t say that,” Tobio protested, thinking, as Oikawa proceeded to drag him away, that there were a lot of things he didn’t say. Why couldn’t they take separate cars? Why wasn’t Oikawa recoiling in disgust at the mere sight of him? Why were his fingers wrapped so tightly around the fabric of Tobio’s jacket? The sight of it, the two of them making their way through a crowd, the knowledge that he was falling into step next to Oikawa Tooru, of all people—none of it made sense. But even simply staring at the feathery brown hair behind Oikawa’s head as he charged through the sea of bodies, Tobio felt he’d much rather stay in the dark, without understanding, devoid of the courage it took to try and get anywhere else.

No words were exchanged on the way to the line, during the line, or after it. All Tobio could hear above the chattering voices was the urgency of his own breath and heartbeat as they were ushered into their private car and locked in it, Oikawa immediately sinking onto the chair and crossing a leg and staring out the window. He followed suit, told himself if he found Hinata’s ridiculously-bright mop of hair then this would all be over and he’d never have to see Oikawa again, let alone ride a Ferris wheel with him.

But he was different, the Oikawa before him bundled up in a patterned scarf and practically burying his nose into it. He was quiet as the ride rose, eyes focused but not _focused_ on the world outside their little floating glass cage, his arms crossed like he was protecting himself from something other than the cold. His eyes were lidded, searching but not for frolicking friends or Tobio’s teammates. And when he parted his pursed lips to speak, it wasn’t critique or a threat or an insulting tongue that bared itself before Tobio’s anxious form.

“Excited for the coming year?” he asked.

Tobio breathed in, opened his mouth to reply, but blinked. “Huh?”

Oikawa didn’t like that very much. “How many times have you said that in the last ten minutes? I asked you if you’re excited for the coming year. You’ll be in second year, right? And your team’s gonna have a new captain and new fledglings too.”

“Uh, I don’t know, I guess? Why are you asking?”

“ _Uh, I don’t know_ , have you ever heard of a little something called conversation?” Oikawa scoffed, turned once again towards the window. “Shame on me for trying.”

So he said, but he’d put an end to Tobio’s defensive spluttering as quickly as he’d triggered it and tried once again, asked about Ennoshita, asked about Hinata, asked about Tsukishima—launched question after question like he wasn’t listening to any of the answers Tobio struggled to give. He could count the beats of silence that passed them by on the fingers of his hands but lost the will to try midway through the one story Oikawa told about something or another during his own second year of high school, lost his capacity to listen some time after that, too, to the overwhelming feeling of having to listen to Oikawa in the first place.

He only realized that they hadn’t searched for their missing friends when the attendant was opening the door to their cart and ushering them out.

Oikawa didn’t seem troubled by that fact when Tobio’d brought it up. “Oh, yeah,” he simply said, casually inspecting their surroundings like he wasn’t currently missing his friends and spending a day off with (barely) an acquaintance instead. And much to Tobio’s dismay, he gestured to the roller coaster rails. “We could probably find them if we went up there, right?”

They wouldn’t, and Tobio adamantly said so, but neither his protests nor his face of mild horror could do anything against Oikawa’s firm grasp around his wrist, dragging him to the roller coaster line not letting go until they were pinned to the car. Tobio could feel the lunch he’d rapidly scarfed down an hour ago bubbling up in his stomach, ready to see the view from the top of the ride along with him, as the coaster slowly climbed up; felt a chill settle in his chest it stopped right before the drop.

And Oikawa was laughing at him. “You look so scared,” he teased, and his grin was as bright as the afternoon sun behind him. “Don’t forget to look for your friends on the way down!”

Tobio opened his mouth to complain, thought better of it as the ride lurched forward and plunged.

He didn’t throw up, thank goodness (he’d never be forgiven if he did), and in turn, Oikawa didn’t set him free—a messed up kind of deal and one that Tobio hadn’t even intended to make. They didn’t find anything or anyone on the roller coaster or the Ferris wheel and yet somehow Oikawa thought it would be a good idea to go on the merry-go-round and the spinning cups to try and do the exact same thing, Tobio unable to get much of a word in, too busy pressing his lips together to keep his food where it ought to be. And when they weren’t going on the worst possible rides, they were moving around the thick crowd, Tobio at this point desperately searching for the rest of his team and Oikawa hauling him fast enough for that effort to fail as miserably as it could. He was brought to food stands, mini-games, the toilet, and all that while Oikawa’s eyes were straight ahead, as if there was nothing in the world that mattered except where he was going next.

And Tobio didn’t understand.

“Well, this was fun, wasn’t it?” Oikawa declared, practically glowing at this point, as if his complexion thrived on how haggard he’d managed to make Tobio look and feel. He had his phone in his hands, the screen displaying a text from too long a time ago, reading, _‘Oikawa, where the hell are you get your ass to the entrance NOW or I’m reporting you as a missing person’_. “You look like you had fun, Tobio-chan.”

Tobio felt like death.

“You should check your phone too, in case your team also cared enough to try and find you,” he continued, glancing at his received texts. “Oh. And while you’re at it, give me your number.”

It was taking all the effort he had not to tip over and dirty the floor with grilled squid and cotton candy, but Tobio had to scowl, had to give Oikawa the scathing glare he deserved. “ _What?”_

“Yeah, why not? It’s not like I’m gonna text you spam messages or anything. Here, put it in. The _real_ thing, okay?”

All signs and all stars still outshone by the sun were calling out to him, telling him to input random digits or perhaps the only other number he memorized (that pizza delivery place near Yamaguchi’s), but when his fingers moved, they moved with purpose and without his consent. Before he knew it, his actual number was flashed onscreen and Oikawa was retrieving his phone like he knew Tobio was going to make a break for the backspace key.

His face and smile were unreadable as he briefly studied the number. “All right. See you around, then, Tobio-chan. Or—” Oikawa stopped himself walking away. “Hopefully not.”

At last, he went and vanished from view, leaving Tobio with his hands on his knees and without the capacity to comprehend the million contradictions in Oikawa’s words, the contradiction that he was as a person, or all of the contradictions that had happened today alone. He wanted to think, to look back and try to realize what the implications of Oikawa having acquired his phone number were, but at the moment, there was really only one thing he could do.

“Hey, Kageyama, there you are! We’ve been—”

And that was to throw up on the nearest unsuspecting pair of shoes.

 

**

 

Tanaka had handled his little accident way better than Oikawa would have (though he did lash out at the other second years, who’d started an official tally of the times he got barfed on), but today, Tobio was determined to lay low. It was cold out, he was winded from all the forced social interaction, and there were magazine articles he’d been neglecting to read for a long while, he remembered as he lay still in bed, eyes on the ceiling. He glanced at the clock above the door reading half past nine, told himself he’d get his quiet day indoors started in another thirty minutes.

But not five later, his phone buzzed.

> **Unknown [9:32 AM]** **  
> ** tobio-channn

He sat abruptly up in bed, gawked at the message like it had a plot to kill him.

> **Unknown [9:32 AM]** **  
> ** come to the mall with me
> 
> **Unknown [9:32 AM]** **  
> ** i have to return something i bought, and iwa-chan won’t come with me.

Tobio continued to stare at the messages, looked around the room like there was anyone around to help him decipher the words or perhaps waiting for a dream to de-materialize around him. There was no way this was real; most of the teenage world didn’t start moving until after 10 AM during vacation and Oikawa shouldn’t have been any exception. Who was to say this was Oikawa anyway? For all he knew, it was a really coincidental and accurate case of wrong number. 

> **Unknown [9:33 AM]** **  
> ** and yes this is your best senpai oikawa tooru, in case you’re having an existential crisis over there

Damn it.

He switched from message to message, glared at them with a disgust he couldn’t detect in himself, too overwhelmed with puzzlement, wondered if he could set his phone aside and pretend to be dead for the rest of the day in the hope of getting away with not sending a reply.

> **Unknown [9:35 AM]** **  
> ** i know you’re awake
> 
> **Unknown [9:37 AM]** **  
> ** don’t make me come get you i remember where you live
> 
> **Unknown [9:38 AM]** **  
> ** be at the mall in 30 minutes. meet you at the entrance. got it?

No, Tobio didn’t get it. He didn’t get it at all. Oikawa was Oikawa, and Oikawa _hated_ him, was great with people and had probably a dozen other, better options to text as a substitute for Iwaizumi (who apparently had a right to refuse to get dragged out), had absolutely no reason to be sending him messages—and yet here were six already, perhaps only the first few of their kind, if he kept up this trend of playing hooky. A part of him still didn’t, couldn’t, believe they were serious; a part that told him that it was a trick and that if he fell for it the weight of the embarrassment would be enough to crush him completely.

But by 9:53, he was standing in front of the mall, frustrated with a tinge of terrified.

He wasn’t sure whether the terror stemmed from the possibility that Oikawa wouldn’t show up or the expectation that he would, but either way he didn’t like how fast his heart pumped in his chest when Oikawa finally did appear before him, right on the dot, wearing glasses.

Tobio blinked at them. "Is your eyesight bad?"

Oikawa sighed, rolled his eyes. "No, and that’s why we’re here. Good on you to actually come out."

"You said you’d come to my house if I didn’t!"

"Like I _actually_ remember where you live, idiot. Get real."

He felt his teeth clench behind his pursed lips, felt his eyes narrow even as his gaze darted away and far. "Well, if that’s the case," Tobio said, already beginning his trek home, where he should have been if his judgement hadn’t fogged over and allowed him to indulge Oikawa, of all people, "I’ll be going back—"

"No!" Oikawa cried immediately, impatiently grabbing him by the arm. "You’re already here; what’s the point of going back now?"

"Getting you out of my sight."

"What, I _did_ tell you I’d see you around."

"What happened to ‘hopefully not’?"

Oikawa took a breath but it seemed to get caught in the middle, his features locked to form a face that had an earful to give and yet couldn’t. And then he breathed out. "Hopes are made to be crushed," he said, and tugged Tobio and his sleeve forward. "Now let’s go. I’m gonna try and get my money back."

There was absolutely no reason that Oikawa couldn’t try and get his money back by himself,  but Tobio found he didn’t have much fight left in him even as he was hauled by the coat halfway across the mall and all the way to an accessory shop. As if the whole situation wasn’t bewildering enough, Oikawa had to go and either speak in riddles or else tell nonsensical stories of how he’d passed by this one shop and managed to "accidentally buy this pair of glasses" that he didn’t need. At this point, Tobio wasn’t sure which questions he should ask and whether he’d remember to get to all of them if he tried to start with one.

So he didn’t bother. Instead, he stood awkwardly outside the store and watched Oikawa try and fail to charm his way to a refund and attempt to construct a scenario in which someone as eloquent as he was bought themselves something without meaning to. Fake glasses, of all things. He came up blank, and in that respect, he supposed, Oikawa would always remain one big mystery to him, no matter how much of himself he already divulged in his day to day and even on TV.

He emerged from the counter not too long later, the glasses sitting on top of his head and the ugliest pair of green shades Tobio had ever seen settled in front of his eyes.

"What the hell is that?"

"So you can only return a product if you have a valid reason," Oikawa said, completely okay with looking like an extraterrestrial with terrible fashion, apparently, "but they did feel sorry for me and said I could have any pair I wanted for 30% off."

That didn’t justify anything. Tobio frowned. "So you chose those."

"Clearly."

"I can see why Iwaizumi-san didn’t want to come."

" _No,_ Iwa-chan didn’t come because he said he’s ‘busy' and that he has ‘better things to be doing with his life’ and that I do too, but that doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s go."

"What?" This time around, Tobio actually found the strength to tug himself away from Oikawa’s persistent hold. "Where are we going?"

"Well, we’re already out. Might as well grab a bite before we go home."

"I thought you said you went out to get your money back, not spend more."

"You don’t go out and _not_ expect to spend any money, Tobio-chan. Besides, it’s not like I’m paying for your food or anything, so I’m not losing much."

"Wait, now _I_ have to spend money too?"

Oikawa at last took the hideous shades off, perhaps to showcase his amused eyes to accompany his toothy grin. "Looks like it," he said. "Don’t worry, we’re never doing this again."

 

**

 

But the next day, right before Tobio could get his own dinner started, he was frowning at his phone yet again.

> **Unknown [6:24 PM]** **  
> ** there’s this place in kakyoin that makes really good curry apparently. come out with me.

He was kidding, right? He had to be kidding.

> **Me [6:24 PM]** **  
> ** I thought you said we’re never going out again
> 
> **Unknown [6:25 PM]** **  
> ** nooo i said we’re never going to the mall to return glasses and then spontaneously eating lunch again. this is different.

Tobio could feel a headache coming on.

> **Me [6:25 PM]** **  
> ** I’m not being given allowance this break, Oikawa-san, I’m going to run out of money
> 
> **Unknown [6:25 PM]** **  
> ** yeah well neither am i but hunger is still hunger
> 
> **Me [6:26 PM]** **  
> ** Make yourself something at home.
> 
> **Unknown [6:26 PM]** **  
> ** but they have canadian food! don’t you want canadian food?
> 
> **Me [6:26 PM]** **  
> ** You said you wanted curry, now it’s Canadian food?
> 
> **Unknown [6:26 PM]** **  
> ** you are so disagreeable
> 
> **Unknown [6:27 PM]** **  
> ** look here’s my plan. some of their dishes there are pretty big and plenty filling but a little expensive and I’m just about as broke as you are, so we can just order one of those and split the cost. not that much money lost, good food, fair enough company. that sound okay to you?
> 
> **Unknown [6:28 PM]** **  
> ** it does, doesn’t it (๑･ิω･ิ)っ

He hated that it kind of did. Tobio glared at the odd face in the message and pretended it was Oikawa receiving his contempt.

> **Unknown [6:28 PM]** **  
> ** be there in 30 minutes. do it for the food
> 
> **Unknown [6:28 PM]** **  
> ** here it is on the map. see ya ✯*

It physically felt like he was being cut on the jagged edges of Oikawa’s dumb stars, and Tobio took a deep breath of calm, unsure of its effectivity even after he’d released it. He stood still, gripped his phone in one hand and his desk chair in another, tried to imagine the consequences of betraying Oikawa’s bizarre confidence in him and staying home this time, wondered if he had enough strength in him to do so, or to perhaps meet up and ask for this to truly be the last time because—other than his rapidly diminishing cash reserve—what even was _this?_ Oikawa making fun of him? Oikawa bored out of his mind? Oikawa losing all his friends and, apparently, sanity to the extent that he’d willingly contact Tobio and throw away his money on food he could easily get at home or at the same place but with literally anyone else?

_oikawa genuinely wanting to spend time with him_ No, it wasn’t that. He didn’t know if he even wanted it to be that.

But no matter what he wanted, no matter what Oikawa truly wanted, the fact of the matter was that Tobio arrived at the restaurant ten minutes before the set time, even more apprehensive than he’d been at the mall, mind filled with possibilities that Oikawa truly was joking this time and would leave him waiting or perhaps arrive and drag him off everywhere but what he’d promised, and he didn’t understand why it was possible, or how he knew for sure it was possible. He’d never had any place to make guesses about Oikawa’s strategies outside the walls of a gym, never even had a reason to see him otherwise either. But he couldn’t figure out what had changed—what had changed so that he could receive multiple texts from a number he hadn’t even saved in a single day, what had changed so that he could see Oikawa walking towards him bundled up and warm and about to eat dinner, not looking at him like he had a plot to crush him in a match.

(Just in a match; oftentimes, Oikawa looked like he wanted to crush Tobio in whatever other ways were possible.)

"You made it! Good, good," he greeted, stretching his lips and arms in a perfect display of fake happy. It made Tobio want to run but compelled him to stay. "Don’t forget our agreement. Share the food, share the bill. In we go!"

None of the things he’d texted had been a lie; the restaurant looked great, indeed sold curry and Canadian, and had food big enough to keep either of them from starving. Oikawa had a smile on as he browsed through the menu, one that Tobio still managed to monitor as he leafed through his own, still managed to catch as it slowly vanished and turned into a curtain to cover his playing with his tongue, pressing it roughly against his teeth, eyes still on the menu but not moving over the words and pictures.

He let Oikawa order for them, let him smile that plastic smile at the waiter as he spoke and handed their menus back, and let himself meet Oikawa’s eyes as the smile was directed at him.

"So! How’s life?" He propped his chin up on the backs of his hands.

It was unnerving. He was unnerving. "Uh, not all that different from yesterday," Tobio said.

"Didn’t meet with any friends this morning?"

"No. Did you?"

"Hmm, some of my juniors wanted to invite me out, but I passed because I had to—yeah. Why don’t you invite your graduates out?"

"We already did, that day at the amusement park."

"Mm, I see, I see." Oikawa paused, seemed to examine the crowd of quietly yet joyously-eating people around them. "Are you gonna miss them?"

Tobio frowned. Whether or not he’d miss the first set of club seniors that actually cared about him wasn’t something even he thought about when he was alone. Why it would matter to Oikawa, who’d spoken but two sentences to them, was incomprehensible. "I don’t know. Maybe?"

"Did they tell you about their plans?"

"Plans?"

"I mean—you know. They’re done with high school. What’s next?"

"Oh, um, I know Sugawara-san and Sawamura-san were in college prep classes, so they’re probably going to university. I’m not so sure about Azumane-san."

"Oh. Nice."

There didn’t seem to be anything particularly nice about anything at the moment, not the atmosphere, not the way Oikawa refused to look at him despite starting the conversation, asking the oddest of questions about Tobio’s life and relationships and the future. In the brief silence, Tobio remembered that Oikawa had one too, a future, and that he’d been so busy listening to impertinent information about Tobio’s upperclassmen’s that he hadn’t shared even a wink of his own.

It would’ve been a fair thing for Tobio to contribute to their discussion ("What about you, Oikawa-san?" or any variation thereof), if only he hadn’t been robbed of time and opportunity. Oikawa’s face was on a different scale of bright as their food was brought to the table, like he’d starved in that moment when no one had spoken, and with the smell of exquisite and moderately-inexpensive cooking blowing in his face, Tobio couldn’t say he was very far off. He wasn’t quite sure what Oikawa had ordered, but he was digging in the moment he found he could, barely aware of Oikawa doing the same, stuffing his face in with a lack of grace that Tobio didn’t know was even possible for him.

They ate and ate, the food they shoved atop their tongues eliminating the need to pull any more words out of their mouths. And when it was gone, all Tobio’s tongue could remember to do was lick his lips clean of sauces.

"How much are we going to have to pay each?" he asked.

Oikawa stopped himself putting away his chopsticks and blinked at the food, and continued before not quite locking eyes with Tobio. "Okay, so I cheated a little bit—"

"What."

"This wasn’t the kind-of-cheap thing that I told you about, but when I saw it on the menu I got kind of hungry and decided to get it—"

Tobio glanced down at the empty dishes, berated himself for not noticing sooner that there were too many to cost little. "So how much is all this?"

"But it was really good, right?"

"How much was it."

Oikawa’s brief flash of teeth was neither proud nor happy. "Over four thousand yen?"

The weight that settled on his chest and temporarily obstructed his breathing was the kind of heavy his wallet would never be again. It took all Tobio had not to slam his hands on the table, scream, and rush out of the restaurant leaving Oikawa to pay the entire sum himself or else wash a week’s worth of dishes to compensate. "Oikawa-san—"

"I know, I know, that was bad, I get it," Oikawa cut in, raising his hands in surrender. "I get it. I’ll pay for three-fifths."

Tobio recoiled. "Wait, seriously?"

"Well, yeah. Unless you don’t mind paying half; I prefer that, actually."

"No, I mind," Tobio said quickly, Oikawa’s declaration of responsibility leaving him surprised but not quite humbled, not enough to pass on an act of kindness (as kind as Oikawa could get), anyway. "Please pay for three-fifths. And please don’t invite me out again. I need to save."

This time, the flash of teeth was nothing short of delighted. "What kind of a request is that?" Oikawa laughed. "How about _you_ stop agreeing to come?"

The kind of request it was, was simple: let’s go back to the way we were, you go back to aggressively ignoring me, I go back to watching the way you work from afar, let’s keep the words exclusive to sport. It was simple, just a rewind, and Tobio couldn’t understand why Oikawa found it so amusing, why he couldn’t just agree. He didn’t understand why he was here, here being anywhere near Oikawa, and why he had been for a few days now, and why Oikawa himself had been the one to pull him there. Why Oikawa smiled too brightly at him, as they left their table and walked out into the street. Why Oikawa made light conversation even though their time was done. Why Oikawa sent a light slap to his shoulder blade as they went their separate ways.

He didn’t understand, but he couldn’t say "why" out loud.

 

**

 

> **Unknown [11:03 AM]** **  
> ** korean

Tobio smacked his own forehead.

> **Unknown [11:03 AM]** **  
> ** i want korean
> 
> **Unknown [11:03 AM]** **  
> ** let’s go get korean
> 
> **Me [11:04 AM]** **  
> ** Will it make a difference if I remind you I don’t have money?
> 
> **Unknown [11:04 AM]** **  
> ** no because you do have money. you’re just not gonna get any more until school starts.
> 
> **Unknown [11:04 AM]** **  
> ** koreannnn╰(✧◇✧)╯
> 
> **Me [11:04 AM]** **  
> ** Do you ever eat at home?
> 
> **Unknown [11:05 AM]** **  
> ** obviously but home doesn’t have korean. you can ask the rest of your questions at the restaurant. let’s go

The way he thought he could order Tobio around, have Tobio following everything he instructed just because he had a grasp on Tobio’s basic interests and ideas and weaknesses, was _infuriating._ But along with his gritting his teeth, Tobio snatched his wallet lying idly on the desk from when he’d counted all he had left the previous night and rushed out onto the streets.

 

**

 

This was against his better judgment and everything he ever believed in, everything he ever stood for, but it was past ten in the morning (and therefore, the world had a right to be awake) and he had his phone in his hands and Oikawa’s message box open and a really, really persistent part of him really, _really_ wanted him to send a message.

So he did.

> **Me [10:25 AM]** **  
> ** Have you seen those planet and space-themed lollipops?

It was a one-way ticket to his demise and not at all free of charge, but he had the nerve to send it, had the nerve to wonder why he suddenly hated himself enough to be doing whatever it was he was doing. As far as he was concerned, he was in the clear; it had been days since Oikawa’s last offer to head to a Korean restaurant and his money was finally safe in its case, no longer being spent on things he didn’t need. Not for much longer, now, though. He knew it the minute he hit send and it was certain the moment Oikawa’s speedy reply came.

> **Oikawa Tooru [10:25 AM]** **  
> ** oooh?? no, where?

He wasn’t sure Oikawa even liked space. He was wearing a shirt that happened to have an embroidered alien when they ate together and Tobio had asked, “Do you like aliens?” to which Oikawa had replied, “Sure, they’re cool,” and that had been that. But Astronomy was cool, if a little hard to understand, and Oikawa seemed like the type to eat tooth-rotting candy or so Tobio’s slowly-expanding repertoire of knowledge on the guy told him, and Tobio wanted to see the lollipops up close too.

And again, he had the nerve to wonder why he was trying so hard, why he sounded like he was coming up with excuses even as he sent another text back.

> **Me [10:26 AM]** **  
> ** I saw some people eating it outside the science museum nearby.

Even he was hit by the (not so) subtle implications of his text, the hidden but clear-as-day invitation, and though in the back of his mind, something screamed, pleaded for Oikawa to end their conversation right then and there, he was hopping out of bed and getting dressed anyway, the instant he received:

> **Oikawa Tooru [10:26 AM]** **  
> ** sold. you know what to do

What he did was run out of the house and do his best to make it outside the observatory within thirty minutes, and this time, unlike the rest, Oikawa was already standing by the entrance to their brand new destination, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone, mouth curled into a small smile as he eyed his own screen. The sight had Tobio’s legs moving faster than they needed to, with over ten minutes left to spare until the usual thirty-minute deadline hit, and the broadening of Oikawa’s grin had his knees nearly buckling.

“What’re you running for?” Oikawa asked the moment Tobio came to a stop. “You’re just that excited to see me?”

Tobio felt both cold and exasperation leave his mouth through his exhale. “I just didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“No, you’re eager to meet up, aren’t you?”

“You know I can easily turn around and run all the way back.”

“But you’re not gonna do that, because you’re excited to go out with me. You like it. You like it so much you invited me out.”

“So the first three times _you_ invited _me_ out are a similar case, then?”

It slipped out before he could think about it, but Tobio felt no regret, watching Oikawa’s still-smiling face harden like it used to when things didn’t go his way on the court. “You’re getting ruder and cheekier by the day,” he noted.

“Probably comes from you.”

“Gross,” Oikawa said, but pulled Tobio through the entrance doors anyway.

A good portion of the museum was dim, illumination mostly coming from the glowing models and exhibits and the lights that shone straight above walls of technical text for them to read. Stars and planets and contraptions Tobio didn’t recognize littered the place, only scarcely less eye-catching than the multimedia presentations projected on flat screens, speaking of lights and the atmosphere. It was everything he expected in an observatory-made-attraction, but more than gawking up at the huge telescope that searched the skies through the open ceiling, he took to watching the people, listening to girls whispering about the Zodiacs and their constellations, following Oikawa’s line of sight and trying to remember which attractions had him smiling brighter than the electronic sun in the solar system section.

The blind invitation to an observatory based only on a decorative alien T-shirt was a shot in the dark, but Oikawa’s face catching the multi-coloured lights of the displays and fondly reading the scientific explanations couldn’t be classified as anything other than pleased, and Tobio consequently felt pleased himself. Neither of them bothered to tell any personal stories, but Oikawa did—on numerous occasions—point things out, call out their names, ask, “Do you get this part?” or outright launch into explanations without prompting. He was smiling all the while, and not in the way Tobio usually saw but the way he did whenever he was around his teammates, celebrating victories or sharing jokes during the time-out.

He was smiling at Tobio like he’d never had a reason to glare at him on the court. It was more fascinating than anything the planetarium robot had to say about the comets.

The end of their visiting time was one crushing disappointment, but Tobio tried not to let it become too conspicuous (to Oikawa, to himself) as they left the main area and headed for the gift shop. Oikawa was already half-squealing as they neared the trinket-laden shelves, letting his eyes wander freely on the globes and stuffed animal keychains and miniature planet replicas until they finally settled on the section for lollipops.

“Ohh, these are gorgeous!” he gushed, picking a few up and studying their intricate, almost glowing designs. “I want the earth one. No, wait—I want Jupiter. _No,_ no, no, I want the moon. The moon looks really good. _No, wait._ Aurora looks better. _Mm, no,_ I want them all. I need to have them all.”

Tobio rolled his eyes. He figured this would happen, but personally, he rather liked the colour of whatever M45 was supposed to be, and so he picked it up and glanced at the horror in Oikawa’s eyes as he realized that there were other designs to choose from at the bottom. “Getting them all is fine, but good luck paying for them.”

Oikawa stopped midway through picking up one of everything to grin at him. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You’re buying them for me, right?”

“What.”

“You told me about the lollipops, so that means you wanted to go out here and buy them for me.”

“I wanted you to see them so you could buy them for yourself!”

“Aww, but they’re all so pretty, and I came all this way for you!”

“You could’ve refused!”

“I’ve fallen victim to false advertising,” Oikawa wailed, though one of the corners of his mouth were still quirked up. He dropped the lollipops all in a bunch in the box for Jupiter and crossed his arms, pretended to sniffle. “This is the last time I’m ever gonna go out with you when you invite me.”

“Good,” Tobio said, angling himself and his M45 candy towards the counter. “I’m getting this.”

“You are so cruel,” Oikawa muttered, but seemed a tad more sensible as he returned the lollipops in their rightful places, eyeing the one that Tobio had gotten for himself a little more seriously than the rest. “Huh. Actually, this is a nice shade of blue. Looks like your eyes.”

Tobio felt his entire body freeze, the hand lightly gripping the lollipop stick now holding on for dear life. He stopped himself walking and watched Oikawa from the corner of his eye, scrutinizing the blue piece of sugar ( _nice shade of blue, looks like your eyes)_ and smiling down at it like it meant something to him, like it was more than just candy waiting to be bought and eaten at a souvenir shop. He held it up high, let the sparkling colour reflect against the light of the store and the light of his own brown eyes, let his teeth show in a smile Tobio had never seen on him before.

But he took a glance at Tobio and promptly set the thing down. “But nah,” he said, as if none of that had happened, gingerly picking up one of the green candies and skipping towards the counter. “I’ll go for Aurora.”

He managed to reach the cashier before Tobio could even continue to think, and Tobio could only grit his teeth, grip his own piece of candy far too hard to be healthy, and wish that he could transform himself into M45 and float up into space, never to deal with Oikawa Tooru and all his peculiarities ever again. This was the last time he was going to do this, he swore, but as Oikawa called him over to the front of the line and insisted that they pay for their lollipops together to save time, he could already feel himself caving into the weight of a promise made to be broken, a conviction too easy to crumble.

 

**

 

“Smile, Tobio-chan!”

Tobio flinched at the flash of bright light from Oikawa’s obnoxiously-blue camera.

They were standing on a boulder at the base of a fifty-five meter waterfall, surrounded by rocks and the green of trees and gushing water and howling wind, picturesque peace, but Oikawa remained tremendously excitable as his little piece of film rolled out for him to grab. “Yay!” he chirped, shaking the thing madly like there was nothing else he’d rather be using the strength of his limbs for, like the air the falls generated around him couldn’t knock the picture straight out of his hands if he held it terribly enough.

“Did you really have to bring a Polaroid to a waterfall?” Tobio asked, blinking the remnants of the flash out of his eyes and wrapping his jacket tighter around himself, because going to a waterfall during spring was a really smart decision, really.

“It doesn’t matter what kind of camera it is, as long as it captures the memories!” Oikawa gave him a proud smile, which, when he laid his eyes on the film, quickly died and rose again as a look of pure disgust. “Tobio, I told you to smile! You look like someone’s selling you shady things on the street!”

“Well, I’m at a waterfall with you and you’re blinding me with flash, so it’s almost the same thing.”

“Mean,” Oikawa said, without any actual hurt, far too focused on his shaking the picture well enough to put in his pocket. He bit his lip. “Well, I’ve taken enough pictures of the falls and it’s getting really cold. Wanna go to the onsen resort now?”

The chill of the spring made its way through Tobio’s skin and settled right in his bones. “We’re—we’re going to the resort?”

“Yeah? Didn’t I tell you?”

“No!”

“Well, now you know. Let’s go.”

Perhaps days ago, he would have complained, but the Tobio of the present was different, didn’t feel like he had quite as much to lose as the Tobio from before, having Oikawa’s hand circling his wrist and trekking them both back the way they came, looking forward to soaking in a soothing public bath. It should’ve pissed him off, at the very least, how easily Oikawa could take him anywhere he wanted to go whether by force or those annoying psychological techniques he pulled, but Tobio didn’t hate it, really; he knew he couldn’t the minute his skin made contact with the bathwater, surrounding him in heat and chasing away the chilly spring air.

He did feel a smidgeon of irritation at the sudden impact of a cold towel on his face. He let out a small growl from the back of his throat as he yanked it away, only to abruptly smother himself with it once Oikawa and his bare (not quite in the bath yet) body came into view.

The water seemed to get warmer when Oikawa did sink himself into it, far too close for comfort. He took in a deep breath and rashly let it out, his arm brushing against Tobio’s as he stretched it above his head. The skin of his bicep was smoother than anything Tobio had ever felt.

“Ahh, isn’t this nice?” he sighed, the grin in his voice evident to Tobio even from behind the censorship of the towel. He paused. “Tobio, you know this doesn’t normally go on the face, right? Have you never taken a bath before?”

“I have!”

“I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if you—”

“ _I have.”_

“Then act like it!” All at once, the white of the towel was no longer obscuring Tobio’s sight and, instead, Oikawa’s amusement was. He took but a moment to balance the cloth on Tobio’s head, giving it a few unnecessarily rough pats, and then seemed to scrutinize Tobio’s face at a distance equally unnecessarily close, eyes crinkling with delight. “Huh. I didn’t know cold towels made people’s faces red.”

“Shut up, everything else is hot,” Tobio mumbled, weaker than he would’ve liked, and turned himself away from Oikawa’s laughter.

 

**

 

The minute Tobio received an incoming call rather than a text, he knew something insane was about to happen.

"Come out on the street," was the first thing Oikawa said.

" _What?"_

"Come out on the street!" he pressed, like simply repeating the phrase would be any more helpful.

"What do you mean ‘on the street’? Just literally out on the street? What street?"

"The street behind the amusement park."

"Please don’t tell me we’re going to the amusement park."

"No, I’m with my nephew. Babysitting. And I’m bored as hell; come out and entertain me."

"Why are you two on the street?"

"Wouldn’t you like to know? Come out and find out."

"What if I told you I’m busy?"

Oikawa’s laugh was the most annoying thing he’d ever heard. "Nice try, Tobio. Now get out here."

In hindsight, there wasn’t anything Oikawa would be able to do if he’d ended the call and turned his phone off for the rest of the day—that had been true since the first day he was mercilessly hauled out, actually—but for reasons Tobio still couldn’t quite identify, he’d set off from his comfortable spot home and headed for today’s venue as dutifully as he would have if it had been a park rather than a street behind one. For the first time since this ludicrous arrangement (if it could even be called that, given that any actual ‘arranging’ was done only thirty minutes before meeting) had begun, whatever was going to happen today didn’t seem to involve punching holes in either of their wallets, and that alone was a pretty good fuel to his legs, not like they needed them.

Maybe that meant something good was going to happen, Tobio’d so enthusiastically thought, until he turned the final corner and caught sight of Oikawa and his carefree little nephew as well as the four large dogs in their clutches. All turning to face him. Happily barking. And then running.

Tobio yelled.

“Okay, I lied, I wasn’t bored!” Oikawa said gleefully as the three dogs whose leashes he had in his possession sprinted toward Tobio, tongues lolling out. Tobio cringed and stayed in the cringe as they, along with the one that had strung Oikawa’s nephew along, surrounded him, coming in for the best sniffs they could attain given how the Oikawas were pulling them back. “I just wanted to see how you’d react around the dogs. We’re walking them for the lady next door.”

“Why are you walking so many?” Tobio demanded, attempting to free himself from the sniffing circle but getting desperately followed anyway.

“Because she has this many." Oikawa shrugged—never mind that Tobio was about to get mauled—beaming down at his nephew, who yelled out a greeting. “You remember Takeru, right?”

“Y-yeah—Oikawa-san, do I really have to be here for this?” The dogs were clambering over one another trying to get a good hold of Tobio’s stomach now and he had to curl in on himself and walk away to avoid getting grabbed by all eight paws.

“Well, you already are, so you might as well enjoy it.”

They were outright chasing him now, barking as they went along on his elliptical path of futile escape. Tobio groaned in protest over Takeru’s loud whoops as his dog spun him around in its wake. “I’m not enjoying it!”

Oikawa definitely was, though. “I knew you’d be bad with animals.”

“Then this was unnecessary!”

The largest dog in the group let out a loud, shrill bark in response and Tobio couldn’t contain his own yelp, couldn’t stop himself ungracefully hobbling behind Oikawa and grabbing his arm and wordlessly declaring him some kind of meat shield from the attention, and Oikawa seemed beyond delighted. He laughed aloud and yanked on the biggest yellowish dog’s collar. "Okay, Oliver, leave the giant infant alone."

"They really like him," Takeru noted, holding his own dog back and stroking it on the head.

"Maybe they think he looks like one of those giant purple balls," Oikawa suggested, snorting as Tobio’s angry growl of protest turned into a startled yelp in response to the monstrous Oliver’s equally monstrous yip and jump, breaking into a fit of giggles even as he was madly shaken and jostled and hidden behind. "Wow, you’re so scared, it’s hilarious!"

His laughing was high and unrestrained, his eyes shut tight and his cheeks stretched wide from what Tobio could see, standing so close behind him—and he had a comeback, he did, but it died where it arose, Tobio only now becoming aware that his nails were digging deep into Oikawa’s sleeve and the skin underneath, that his cold breaths were probably on Oikawa’s neck, that his chest had warmed from how closely it was pressed to Oikawa’s back, and that Oikawa was laughing at how ridiculous he was but otherwise had no complaints.

He easily had Tobio on his arm right now, but he wasn’t pushing him away.

"Okay, all hilarity aside," he only said, but he was still chuckling, "it’s about time we get these guys back home. And no, Tobio, you are not included."

"Of course I’m not," Tobio said, already able to visualize the future of his next few hours, getting hauled somewhere ridiculous and coerced to buy something flashy or delicious or both for Takeru and his annoying uncle, and the thought of it made him remember to pull himself back, get his hands off of where they were all over Oikawa to put it simply, figuring it would be better for the both of them.

And _then_ Oikawa complained. "Don’t let go," he instructed. "I wanna tell my mom that I walked four dogs instead of three."

"What?" Tobio cried, and that was about all he could do. Oikawa dragged him and the three other charges forward, turned his nose up at Takeru’s observant and accurate declaration of "You really are weird, Tooru," and brought them all to the nearest ice cream emporium, dogs and empty wallets and all.

 

**

 

The next time Oikawa contacted him with a plot to deprive him of his own money, Tobio thought, he would chain himself to his bedroom door and stay there for the next few days until Oikawa figured he was dead and left him alone. However, ‘next time’ was another phone call he’d answered on instinct, and a little bit different from the other times.

“Don’t give me the excuse that you don’t have money. This isn’t a restaurant or an onsen we’re talking about; it’s a shrine,” Oikawa said matter-of-factly, like he knew about Tobio’s very literal plans for a chain. “We’re going there because we used up a lot of money this break and would like some reinforcements. Blessings. Come on, don’t tell me you’re too good to pray.”

He wasn’t too good to pray, and apparently, he wasn’t very good at resisting Oikawa either. Tobio took the stairs leading up to the shrine gate a few steps a time and still found him standing with his hands in his incredibly furry, too-furry coat’s pockets at the top step, looking up at the torii like it housed the gods themselves, only turning around when Tobio’s footsteps were close enough to hear and then wearing a big smile.

“Let’s go,” he said, briefly pulling on Tobio’s pinky once they’d bowed in front of the gate.

With their cleansed hands, they made their way to the altar, Oikawa giving one last, “Remember, Tobio-chan: ask for blessings of money and abundance,” before they rang the bell and dropped their coins. As he bowed and clapped, Tobio kept his eyes on the offering box and wished for exactly that, simple enough. A bit of change coming his way to make up for all he’d lost, a refill to his savings, the discipline not to head off to a spending spree every other day. He wondered how hard Oikawa would have to plead to be granted the last wish (something he badly needed, to be quite frank), wondered if he really _was_ pleading fervently or if all of this was a simple pit stop to where he really intended to drag Tobio today.

But as Tobio halted in his own prayer to sneak a peek at Oikawa’s face, he found no smile, not a hint of malice or mischief, not a flicker of light in Oikawa’s eyes. He held his folded hands close to his face, stared into nothing as he took deep and even breaths, perhaps to calm the trembling of his fingers, and Tobio couldn’t think of any reason for a person who yearned for a few thousand yen to look like he was on the verge of tears.

At Oikawa’s sharp inhale, Tobio remembered his own prayer and returned to it, all at once forgetting everything he’d said and starting anew. Whatever was happening with Oikawa, he said, please let it all be fine, and please give me the opportunity to understand.

 

**

 

His, "I don’t have any more money," was half-hearted when Oikawa, again, called to invite him out, and he told himself it was only because night swimming at a waterpark sounded like fun. Oikawa greeted him outside the entrance wearing his volleyball shorts and waving two tickets above the sunglasses perched on his head. It wasn’t summer yet, and this was going to be the dumbest thing they did all break, but all Oikawa really had to say was:

"It’s half price," with an accompanying shrug, as they both headed inside.

They didn’t bother with the outdoor or shallow pools, Oikawa immediately dragging him to the one for laps and jumping right in. His physique and the gear on his head and eyes made him look like a competitive swimmer, and Tobio was more than just a little excited to find out how good he was.

"I’ll race you to the end and back," he said. "Doggy style."

Tobio frowned. "You mean ‘dog paddle’?"

Oikawa stopped, snorted. "Yeah, that." He bit his lip but burst out laughing, high and loud. "Yeah, that. Ugh, god. You know what, never mind. Just swim however you want. I’m gonna beat you regardless, anyway."

"We’ll see about that," Tobio said, taking position in another lane yet still watching Oikawa lightly chuckle and shake his head for a reason he couldn’t quite figure out.

He was better than Tobio wished he would be, his strokes powerful and his kicks clean, from what Tobio could see and hear while wading his way through the expanse of the pool. He did briefly stop his turn to laugh with his head above the water, though, later arguing that this was the only reason why Tobio was able to defeat him a few seconds ahead.

"Why _are_ you laughing so much?" Tobio asked, but Oikawa only laughed louder, wiping either tears or pool water from his eyes.

The rest of the night was as wet as one would expect, Oikawa contributing just as much as the submersion of Tobio’s body underwater by splashing him whenever he got the chance. He spoke of his minimal experience learning Butterfly as a child but quitting because he was too impatient to get the legs right. Tobio shared his early aversion to Back because he kept getting water in his ears. When he wasn’t swimming or making a mess, Oikawa insisted on doing pool tricks and exercises, clambering on Tobio and trying a series of carries he made no warnings about or else trying to stand on his hands without getting caught by the lifeguard. It was like dealing with a less rambunctious Nishinoya, but when the hour got too late and they left to take their own showers, Tobio figured Oikawa looked like he enjoyed himself, and things were marginally better.

Oikawa was sniffling when they reunited at the park exit. "I inhaled a lot of water," he said, choking on his own words.

"I told you not to try the handstand so many times."

"That lifeguard was way too reliable to be real; I had to test him!" He rubbed at his nose. "Anyway, let’s go."

"What? Where are we going?"

"Home. I’ll walk you."

Tobio paused, took a moment to study Oikawa’s expression and averted gaze. "You’ll...walk me?"

"Yeah. Times are dangerous now, you know. It’s too late for a youngin such as yourself to be walking home alone."

"You’re only two years older than me."

"And that makes all the difference. Come on."

Tobio didn’t know if it was the solemnity of the dark and the emptiness of the street at work, but whatever light-hearted mood had possessed Oikawa during their time in the water was gone, leaving a painful silence in its wake. The glances he managed to sneak at the earlier-grinning face revealed no clues—only sparked a flame of confusion in a place Tobio couldn’t quite reach, sent an unease in the pit of his stomach that made him want to vomit words, any words, hopefully for a sentence, that could get Oikawa to stop looking like that. But he’d never been good with words. Or feelings, or worrying, or people. The silence stayed all the way home.

"Still up for going out tomorrow?" Oikawa asked once he’d made acquaintance with the Kageyamas’ front gate.

He hadn’t quite retained his jovial mood yet. "Where?" Tobio simply asked.

"Meet me at Mitsukoshi at 10. Don’t bring any money if you’re walking. I’ll take care of lunch. See you."

"But—" He turned and left before Tobio could formulate anything coherent, left Tobio standing in the dark and wondering what they were going to do at a grocery store.

 

**

 

What they did was what anyone would do at a grocery store: shop for groceries. The minute he arrived, Oikawa brought him inside and headed for the carts, asked him if he was all right with pushing. He was, but more importantly, he was bewildered that Oikawa’d bothered asking. He grabbed the cart and, at the same time, wondered aloud whether Oikawa was sick or something, regretted it immediately once Oikawa petulantly huffed.

“You’re right. My bad; I shouldn’t treat you like a human being,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Come, Tobiou-chan, push my cart for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Tobio said immediately.

“Fish don’t talk, Tobiou.”

“They don’t push carts either.”

Oikawa threw him a sidelong glance, wore a small smile. “Touché. Let’s go to the toiletries.”

The rest of the walk was much quieter, Oikawa too busy browsing shelves and scrutinizing items to interact. It didn’t take long for the cart to fill up with all sorts of things, discounted boxes of soap and floral-scented detergent included. It was the kind of stuff his mother would have him buy for the house, Tobio realized as a knife was added to the pile of stuff, but then again, Tobio’s house had most of this stuff already.

“Did your mom ask you to go shopping?” Tobio warily asked as Oikawa took stock of everything he’d taken off the shelves.

He let his eyes crinkle far more than he let his mouth curl. “That’s right,” he said, and didn’t talk much for the rest of the afternoon. He did pay for lunch like he’d promised, and Tobio stuffed himself in it, knew better than to ask too many questions.

 

**

 

The highest lookout tower in Sendai was in no way as glamorous as its name made it sound, the deck a little too cramped and the view uninteresting, but the way Oikawa stood, right before one of the few windows that displayed the night scenery with the wind of late March blowing in his face, made Tobio wonder whether some hidden value could be found in staring at the tops of buildings they saw everyday, some hidden meaning that could only be found in Oikawa’s head.

His eyes stared far, farther than the roads and the city skyline took them, brushed his gaze over every familiar structure, seemed to drink them in like he’d been thirsty all his life, regarded every open light in every window and every streetlight like the stars of the vast sky—and no matter how long Tobio watched, studied, calculated, he just, still, couldn’t understand.

“Oikawa-san,” he said, “why did you take me here today, of all places?”

For a while, the cold gusts of wind were his only answer, Oikawa’s face unchanged and only slowly blinking even as the seconds ticked by, but he did eventually stuff his hands in his coat pockets, shrug like they weren’t thirty storeys high and out late in the evening. “Not much of a reason, really. Just heard that this was a good place to get a view of the city.”

There were a lot of things Tobio could’ve replied with, most of them questions, but he chose what he believed to be the most basic. “Why...do you want a good view of the city?”

What followed was an exasperated sigh, but with it, Oikawa wore a small smile. “You ask too many questions. I love this city. When you love something, you like to look at it with a dreamy face and things. Isn’t that how it works?”

“Um, I guess, but the way you say it, it doesn’t really sound like you’re really here because of that.”

That at last tore Oikawa’s gaze away from the outlook and brought it to Tobio’s face, and Tobio waited. For sudden snark, or an exasperated frown. But as their eyes locked, Oikawa’s face remained the same, the softness in his eyes that he’d claimed was out of love now directed at his measly junior, persistent and a genius, asks too many questions. The gaze was honeyed, almost too much to handle, and his next words weren’t any different.

“You understand me pretty well by now, don’t you?”

Tobio’s heart skipped a beat in his constricted chest.

But like he wasn’t rendered frozen by the unholy combination of cold and shock and gentleness, Oikawa sent a gruff pat on his shoulder and sauntered past him, humming a light tune and with his hands still in his pockets. Tobio could muster enough power only to turn and trace Oikawa’s path with sight, and by the time he realized that Oikawa was heading into the elevator and leaving him in the dust, it was a little too late.

“Oikawa-san!” he resorted to calling out, knowing full well no run would be fast enough to bring Oikawa back. There was something else he wanted to say, a lot more he _had_ to, but it wasn’t until after Oikawa’s friendly wave goodbye, until after the doors were closing, until after Oikawa’s smile abruptly vanished and changed into a face of pure contempt directed at nothing when he thought no one was looking, that Tobio remembered what they all led up to:

_I don’t understand you at all._

 

**

 

Days before his second year of high school began, their rigorous practices for Inter High began, Tobio had anything but school or volleyball on his mind. His wallet remained on the table, nearly empty but exactly as it had been all week; his magazines were stacked on the floor next to his bed in reverse order, the one topping the pile opened to dry the drool in the middle of the page. His chin rested on the pillow as he lay flat on his stomach, feeling...not quite right, like there was something missing, somewhere he needed to be.

Which was a load of bullshit, if you asked him. All break, there was nowhere he absolutely _needed_ to be, and all the times he’d ever been anywhere was only because of Oikawa’s whims and persuasion. But as much as he’d like to tell no one in particular that all those times had been complete inconveniences, he wasn’t sure he had the right, now that for the better part of a week Oikawa had let him be and the only thing he actually was at the moment was _itching to go out again._

So he did.

He left his money at home, kept his hands in his empty jacket pockets as he idly strolled the streets, looking around as though searching, no idea where to go and a vague one for where he wanted to be. But he didn’t want to think about that, or anything at all. He let his body do the work, let his feet carry him to wherever they felt was right, let them realize for themselves when they started to head to the science museum, the waterpark, the street, the hiking trail—and only then forced them to stop to change direction.

In the end, he found himself by a quiet street in a neighbourhood he wasn’t familiar with, treading on the sidewalk watching door after door go by, watching the occasional idle resident through low windows. Like a creep, said a familiar voice ringing through his head, but he kept going, tried not to peek inside houses too much, half convinced there was a greater purpose he had to serve on this road and half unwilling to think too much about his route—a significant decision, he only perceived when the first sign of life became visible on his path. A family’s car, enough to fit five people, the trunk open wide from what Tobio could see, a tall man lugging boxes inside and his wife halfway out the door, and then feathery brown hair atop a boy clad in an incredibly furry, too-furry coat, and a considerable number of bags.

Bags too large to contain just a wallet an obnoxiously-blue camera.

Tobio bolted for the car.

"Oikawa-san!" he yelled from afar, and he didn’t care that the older couple gawked at him. He cared that their son stiffened like a rock, seemed to blanch the closer Tobio drew, and took a deep breath before retreating behind the lifted decklid like it could still conceal him.

Tobio wasn’t having any of that. He ran faster, and didn’t stop until he was right there by the trunk loaded with junk, right there by Oikawa whose hands were fisted around the hem of his coat, who jumped the minute Tobio came to view, who swallowed and closed his eyes and reopened them to twist his face into the fakest smile he’d worn to date.

"Tobio-chan," he sang. "How sweet of you to stalk me!"

"Where are you going."

"You’re not even going to react to me accusing you of stalking?"

"Where. Are. You. Going."

Step by step, pause by pause, the fake happy Tobio knew too well became bitterness, Oikawa’s eyes narrow and his lips pursed, a brand of sour consistent with the next sounds of his voice. "University."

The answer was so simple, blunt, that Tobio hardly registered it. "Huh?"

"Your senpai aren’t the only ones who’ve graduated, you know," Oikawa pointed out, innocently blinking up at the trees surrounding what was probably his home. "I have a new life to move on to too, far away from here."

Tobio blinked at him, in turn, like he was a blurry page of a test that needed passing. "Wait," he said, the view from the lookout tower and the items in the shopping cart and Oikawa’s hands folded in front of the altar flashing before his eyes. He reared back. "Is _this_ why you were asking for their plans?"

"Sort of. I’d hate to enter all excited for college and then end up face to face with any of your stinky friends."

"Why didn’t you tell me about yours?" Tobio demanded.

"You didn’t ask."

"I didn’t ask for any other thing you told me! I didn’t ask for you to drag me everytime you went out! Out of all the things you decided not to blab about, why did you choose _this?"_

"You say that like I’m obligated to blab about everything that happens to me. What are we, close?"

That stung. "Apparently close enough for you to take me every fucking place you want to go," Tobio managed despite the odd feeling in his chest, something he couldn’t name. It felt like a firm grip somewhere no one should’ve been able to reach, squeezing tighter and tighter the more he stared at Oikawa’s completely unperturbed face conveying no feelings, no regrets; the more the silence lingered on accompanied by the images of the roller coaster, and the food, and the planets, and the gushing water—every cent and second spent where he never thought he had the right to stand, watching Oikawa smile and talk like he never talked before; every opportunity presented for him to push his way through the iron walls volleyball had placed between them and setting their relationship in concrete as something that couldn’t change _where was all this coming from_ and could never grow.

Even after all of it, he still didn’t understand. Not Oikawa, not himself.

This time, he’d try to. "Why have we been doing this all spring?" Tobio, at last, asked.

Oikawa frowned, glanced at his parents subtly watching him from the front of the car. "Is this really the time?"

"I didn’t ask anything from you the entire break," Tobio said. "I’m asking you one thing now."

Clearly Oikawa didn’t consider that any consolation, but there was nowhere he could run unless he could live with running Tobio over with his car. He glanced at his parents, let out a breath. "I don’t want to move away," he admitted, voice but a whisper.

"Then don’t," Tobio said.

"I never wanted to move away, but the majority vote was that it would be what’s best for me, all offers considered. That day at the amusement park was supposed to be the last day of freedom before we all started getting our shit straight and started preparing. Running into you definitely wasn’t on purpose, and mostly I asked for your number so I could bug you without seeing your face, even from far away, but...do you know how hard it is to prepare for something you don’t want to do? All the packing, all the paperwork, all the goodbyes...it’s hard enough work when you’re doing it on your own free will."

"So you just decided _not_ to say goodbye?"

The corner of Oikawa’s mouth quirked up, but without the joy. "Yeah, well, I didn’t want to say goodbye to you."

Tobio tensed.

"The only reason I decided to return those useless glasses was to put off everything I had to do, and of course, Iwa-chan wouldn’t tolerate that. So I thought of taking you. I figured maybe before I do something I don’t want to do, I’d do something I _really_ don’t want to do, so moving would appear the good option in comparison."

He let out a soft laugh. "But apparently that was stupid. Turns out I’d come to want to go out with you. So what I thought would be the only reason I’d want to go just added to the list of reasons I want to stay."

Tobio could feel his heart hammering in his chest so well that he was sure Oikawa could hear it, his smile turning into half a frown and his finger moving to poke Tobio in the forehead. "Don’t let that get to your dumb head, though. I simply realized that talking trash to your face is better than talking trash behind your back."

"Then don’t go," Tobio pressed anyway.

"I have to." Oikawa shrugged, looking more or less resigned to his own sentiments, but his eyes lacked their usual glow. "I’m packed, I have lodging—I’m basically all set to live there until I find work and then die."

"Where?"

"Not telling."

"Why not?"

"I don’t like that determined look in your eyes."

Tobio narrowed them. "Then I’ll find out through Iwaizumi-san."

"And?"

"I’ll follow you!"

"Follow me?" Oikawa repeated, his grin malicious. "How? Are you rich, Tobio-chan?"

His pocket suddenly felt light, took his mind back to his wallet sitting idly back at home on his desk, and the emptiness was just crushing enough to be painful. "You’re an asshole," he muttered.

"My parents are right there, you know," Oikawa pointed out like he couldn’t tell that Tobio gave no shits whatsoever. His expression softened as he glanced at his belongings. "But I know. And since there’s nothing either of us can do about that, I guess this is it."

Tobio felt his nose twitching as Oikawa shut the trunk. "Thank you for the past few weeks," he said, and he looked like he was gazing at the view of Sendai from thirty storeys high on a windy night again. "And I’m sorry about your money."

Damn it, he wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t going to cry. Tobio took a deep breath and stretched his eyes wide open as Oikawa stepped away from him and towards his parents, nodding and smiling at them like everything he’d just told Tobio was a lie. But he didn’t have a reason to lie, now that he was going somewhere that for once, Tobio truly couldn’t follow. And so Tobio had no choice but to embrace that bittersweet feeling akin to betrayal as Oikawa hopped in his car with his parents, turned to look at Tobio one last time as they drove off if only to give him one last trademark peace sign minus the ugly wink and tongue. A shame, really. They could’ve prevented the few tears that escaped Tobio’s eyes as he waved back, could’ve made the last expression Tobio would ever see on Oikawa something other than shock, but Oikawa at the amusement park had been right. They shouldn’t have let themselves get dragged into things they weren’t prepared for.

 

**

 

The break before his second year of high school, Tobio’d spent with Oikawa, who regarded him as a person and not a volleyball machine for the first time. Had he known it would also be the last, maybe he’d have just slept, ate at home, exercised, played volleyball, and indulged Hinata’s demands to go out a second time.

"Hello?"

"Iwaizumi-san, it’s Kageyama."

"Kageyama? How’d you get my number?"

"It’s...a long story. Do you know where Oikawa-san is moving?"

He wasn’t going to be _that_ easy to shake off, though.

 

**Author's Note:**

> every place that kageyama and oikawa went to in this fic (the mall where oikawa bought his glasses being the exception) is an actual place in sendai! kudos to you if you can identify all of them!! (*＾∀ﾟ)ъ ✯
> 
> i've actually been thinking of posting an oikawa pov for this but idk if anyone would be interested in that. and after the oikawa pov i suddenly got an idea for a continuation and simply put sfksfkdfs fucc someone tell me if this is a good idea or not my crops are wilting
> 
> || [tumblr](http://kakkoweeb.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/diecrotic) | [writing updates](http://kakkoweeb.tumblr.com/writing) | [instagram bc why not](https://www.instagram.com/diecrotic/) ||


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